Blackblade 0.09 - You Are What You Think You Are
Osamu let out a sigh as he relaxed into the warm water. He took a deep breath, and began to relax, when suddenly he tensed. He brought his hand up to cover his face just as his friend called, “Incoming!” and jumped in, splashing both Osamu and much of the surrounding area. Mako settled into the water, and Osamu relaxed again. “Niiiiice,” Mako sighed. Osamu didn’t address Mako’s choice of entrance; he had long ago stopped questioning what he did. “So, that went as well as to be expected.” “Quite. It’s unfortunate that so many of the cabinet were resistant.” “Eh, you don’t want to inherit a balky set of underlings. They’ll just try to cause problems. Better for them to show their true colours now, then for them to fester in schemes and resentment and take it out on you years from now." “True, true.” The two sat quietly for a few moments. The evening was calm, and only the chirps of insects and toads disturbed the silence. At least until Mako started talking again. “So, there’s no one around, right?” Osamu opened his eyes, his respite shamefully short. “Yes...” “Yes, there’s no one here?” “Yes, there’s no one here. I sent the servants away, you know that. Why do you care?” “You’re certain?” “Yes.” “Absolutely, positively sure?” “Yes! If anyone was nearby, I’d hear them!” Osamu began to show his annoyance. Normally he could banter with Mako for hours before becoming aggravated, but combat always put him on edge. Unfortunately for him, it only made Mako more wired than he generally was. “Alright then,” Mako leaned forward. “Then why are you still dressed up?” “What are you...” Mako cut him off before he could finish his sentence, “Don’t play dumb.” Osamu looked away, but didn’t respond. “You’re weaker like that, aren’t you?” he continued, his voice serious. Osamu pursed his lips, “...Not...maybe not significantly.” “Yes or no.” “...Yes,” Osamu admitted. “I can’t say I’ve tested extensively though.” “Now, why, out of deep, burning curiosity, are you handicapping yourself in battle?” Osamu’s eyes were still downcast; he bit at his lip as Mako stared at him, asking questions he’d rather not answer. “Can’t say I was really considering it at the time, I was a little busy with the guard detail, but after the fact I was thinking, ‘Oh, well, maybe it’s because he wants to keep it a secret, since hey, we probably aren’t killing everyone here.’ But now we’re out here, and you know there’s no one around and you’re still wearing your makeup, and I’m worrying that the only reason you’re shortchanging yourself is because you’re being a vain pussy. Again.” “I am not!” “Then take it off.” “I don’t have to do anything.” “Take off your damn disguise! God, you're like a little girl, always whining about never being pretty enough.” “Stop yelling or the servants will come!” Mako rolled his eyes and dropped his head back in frustration, “What in God’s name was the point of going to Hell if you aren’t even going to use what you damned yourself for? I’d ask if you were trying for Heaven or something now, but I already know why; it’s the same reason you’ve got your hair in your eyes. Still! You are literally wearing the best in scar-covering makeup, and you STILL have your hair in your eyes!” “...” Osamu started to say something, but the words caught every time he tried, so he said nothing. He sank low into the water, so that it came up to his nose, and he dropped the transformation spell that he hid behind. Hie eyes were still downcast. “And the most pathetic part, and you've always been this pathetic, really, is that you’re like, the prettiest monster in existence.” Mako was still upset. “When mothers tell their kids stories to scare em, do you think they’re all ‘Oooh, eat your vegetables, or the white-haired angel from Hell will come after you! He might glare at you a bit!’ Like fuck, if I was a devil, I’d be all fangs ‘n spikes ‘n claws ‘n shit. Like, actually scary.” He looked over Osamu for a minute, then continued, “I’d be fast, faster than any human could possibly be." He seemed to have fallen off track, his eyes wandering elsewhere, distracted by the new thoughts in his head. "Fuck swords, I’d just rip people apart with my bare hands. Claws? Whatever, I’d be all ‘whoosh, whoosh’, and everything would be dead. Wouldn’t see it coming.” Osamu mumbled something unintelligible from under the water. Mako gave him a sarcastic look, “You have to take your head out of the water, sweetie.” Sitting up, he repeated clearly, “I don’t think you get to pick what you look like in Hell.” Mako laughed, “Says the guy who’s been covering himself in perfectly designed makeup since he got back. Do you sleep in that?” “I don’t sleep.” Mako ignored his last comment, and continued over him, “And what are you talking about, sure you get to pick. I’ll prove it. Ok, describe yourself. As a human.” Osamu looked at him oddly, “Umm...I...was pale, with light hair.” Mako nodded and make a sarcastic checking motion on his hand, “Alright, you’re white, got it.” “I had brown eyes,” Osamu stressed, as though making a point. “Ok, nice try, but I know for a fact that you would describe yourself as ‘pale’ fifteen times before you remembered you had eyeballs. Carry on.” Osamu frowned, “I had a scar on my cheek.” “Is that still there?” Mako leaned over, trying to see under his friend’s hair. “Yes,” Osamu’s tone hinted at his displeasure at this as he pulled his bangs back. Mako squinted at it, then moved forward to look at it more closely. “That’s...weird. Proves my point though.” Osamu rolled his eyes and let his hair fall back. He didn’t say anything; he figured that he would wait for the explanation. “Hold out your arm...No, not that one, the other one,” Mako ordered, then pointed, “You had a scar above your elbow there.” Osamu looked at his arm, a bit taken aback, “I...suppose I did.” The skin on his arm was milk white and flawless. “You also had two, here and here,” Mako gestured on his own shoulder. Osamu looked, and there were no marks on his own. “The one on your face now, it’s not even really a scar. It just looks like your skin’s coloured that way. Because that’s how you decided you look.” Osamu rubbed his eyes, considering his friend’s words. “You always believed that you were a monster, ever since we were kids. So when they made you one, you still looked like yourself, just more...monstery. Pale with a scar on your face, just like you said yourself.” He still said nothing as Mako settled back and relaxed again. “So, I’m gonna be spiky and super fast. Whoosh.” The two sat quietly for a little while, one thoughtful, the other smug. “...Well, I would advise against a tail, at any rate,” Osamu finally added. Mako opened up one eye to regard Osamu, who was now laying back with his eyes closed. “Why? Tails are cool.” “Spoken by someone who doesn’t have one.” Osamu added dryly. “It is possibly the most obnoxious piece of anatomy in existence.” “Aww, you’re just a bitch.” He shrugged, “Don’t say you weren’t warned.” He opened his eyes slightly to look over at Mako. Both men grinned. Category:Banishment of the Blackblades